I bet that teeny-bopper is glad you’re between her and the trannie complaining about the lousy tips at the club last night.Someone needs to tell him that there’s no way he’ll ever pull off Dolly Parton.J-Lo,maybe, but not Dolly.

Seems like Trannie is talking to you about the myriad of side effects resulting from too much estrogen. You’re listening, politely, but without commitment. The pre-teen is re-thinking her 76th myspace message (cyber attempt), aimed, yet again, at that dreamy David Archuleta.

It’s a guy in a tank top, gumby gold chain, and massive comb-over sitting next to Sho. And the girl on his left is his girlfriend. I like this because it has a “I like going to the coffee shop and feeling uncomfortable” feel to it.

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